The Bottle Trap
by DavestWriterDavidson
Summary: Set just hours after "The Best of Both Worlds", Captain Picard is haunted by whispers of the Borg Collective. Doctor Crusher may have the solution- but does it cause more problems than it solves?


_THE BOTTLE TRAP_

Jean-Luc Picard sat on the edge of his bed, submerged deeply in thought. The past week had been the most harrowing of his entire life. His will, his humanity, his soul had all been stripped away from him in less than an instant. He'd done things he'd had no control of, forced to sit and watch as things proceeded- a prisoner in his own mind. Thankfully, due to the ingeniousness of his crew, he'd been saved and brought back. He'd been given back control, he was himself again. Yet, at night, when the universe reached the peak of silence, he'd heard the voices. They haunted him, and scratched at the edges of his subconscious. The call of the Borg Collective echoed around the recesses of his mind. They did not call his name, they called to him by who he had been.

_Locutus… Locutus… _The chanting rang incessantly.

Picard shook his head in frustration and pushed himself off the bed. With each step he took, the voices grew louder and louder.

_Leave your life… Free yourself from your pain… _

They became so loud Picard slammed his fists to the sides of his head, shutting his eyes tightly. "Leave me be damn it!" He yelled.

He was so tense that when a gentle hand placed itself upon his arm he quickly pulled back. When he opened his eyes, he saw it was Dr. Beverly Crusher, the chief medical officer onboard the _Enterprise_. Her light blue eyes were filled with worry as she looked up at him. Picard let out a long sigh as he relaxed, "Dr. Crusher, I didn't hear you come in."

"I was passing by your quarters when I heard you shouting. Sit down, Captain." Picard slowly lowered himself into the chair behind his desk, rubbing his temples. "Captain Picard, I've been worried something like this would happen." Her voice was soft, and was easy for Picard to focus on past the now dimming echoes of the Borg Collective.

"Worried about what exactly?" Picard asked.

"There was a possible side effect to the sudden disconnection from the Borg. I feared that there could still be connections to the Collective, given how the microcircuit fiber implants had almost completely melded into your DNA." Picard rested his chin on his hand as she spoke, taking this new information in.

"So, what you're saying is that the Borg's connections were so invasive that they have permanently impressed themselves into my DNA?"

Dr. Crusher quickly shook her head, "No, no. What I'm saying is that it will take time for your body to fully heal, to mend the scars this experience has left you with." There was a long pause.

"Doctor Crusher, is there anything that could alleviate the echoes of the Borg?"

It took Beverly less than a moment to respond, "There is. However, I'll only prescribe it on one condition." She procured a small bottle from her lab coat. "Only take two, before bed. They contain high amounts of Doxylamine succinate and melatonin. Take too many and your muscles could go out of your control, and you could suffer from slowed reaction times. This is very easily abusable, Jean-Luc. Don't fall into that trap."

Picard chuckled as he took the bottle from her, "Sleeping tablets?"

Beverly shrugged as a faint smile came to her lips, "Sometimes you can't go wrong with the tried and true."

"Thank you, Beverly. I'll make sure to follow doctor's orders." Picard smiled.

"You'd better, I'd hate to confine you to sickbay, Jean-Luc." She said as she rose from her chair. "Now, get some rest."

"I will. Goodnight, Beverly."

"Goodnight, Jean-Luc."

After he'd taken the pills, Picard had found it much easier to find the sleep that had eluded him. The next night, he sat at his chair with his legs crossed, ankle over knee, sipping a hot cup of Earl-Grey tea. He'd relinquished his red and black Starfleet uniform and changed into a simple grey and brown tunic, and was listening to a piece by Mozart as he gazed out at the stars. Surrounded by the things he cherished, Picard smiled to himself.

As the violins and flutes played out a lively tune, the voices began to creep up again.

_You are incomplete… _Picard's smile faded quickly and he stood up.

"Computer, end music." Picard said solemnly. The ship's computer beeped as Picard reached for the bottle and quickly took two with the last few sips of his tea.

Picard set his cup down and went to his bed, laying down and pulling the blanket up and over. As he closed his eyes, he heard the voices grow louder.

_Locutus… Your pain is unending…_

They continued to grow ever louder, until Picard felt his muscles involuntarily relaxing. As he relaxed, the voices began to sink back down. As he smiled to himself, the voices continued to draw back to his subconscious. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

Almost a full week had passed since that night, and Picard had found himself pre-emptively taking the pills to avoid the voices before they ever began to rise. This night, however, he had lost himself in whittling a wooden model of a _Constellation _class starship.

Without warning, the voices came to him in a barrage.

_Pain! Agony! Despair Locutus! You are wasted here, return to us!_

Picard felt his heart sink in an instant and he dropped the knife and incomplete model on his table. He reached for the bottle, unscrewing it quickly as he walked to the food replicator. "Computer, Earl-Grey tea. Hot." The drink materialized in a cup before him as he counted out four pills. He stopped for a moment, looking down at the blue tablets in his hand. "Four pills. Well, back in the bottle for two of you." Then, the voices came roaring out at him.

_Pain! Despair poor Locutus! Life is pointless! Return, Locutus! _

"Damn you!" Picard grunted. He closed the bottle and took the four pills in one swift gulp. "That should keep you quiet." He said as he placed the cup back down.

He went to bed, and fell asleep quickly

The next night, Picard found himself upping the dosage to six pills as the voices roared at him. He had only just gotten back to his quarters when the voices began, and he was in no mood to deal with them. The captain had only just sat down on his bed when he fell into another deep slumber.

Alarm klaxons blared, and the ship shook violently, nearly throwing Jean-Luc out of his command seat. His second in command, William Riker, furiously tapped at the data pad on the arm of his chair. His red and black uniform was charred and covered with ash, and sparks flying from above singed his dark beard. "Number One!" Picard yelled above the chaos, using his affectation for Riker, "Damage report!"

As Riker shielded his head from falling debris, he glanced at his data pad. "Hull breaches on decks ten through eighteen! Shields at six percent, phaser banks three, seven, and nine are offline!" Picard grimaced as he looked out the viewport towards their attacker.

The massive, daunting cube of twisted metalwork loomed in front of them. Its weapons systems released volley after volley into the _Enterprise_, tearing it apart relentlessly. Picard, however, was not intimidated. "Keep the remaining phaser banks running, continue scrambling their frequencies- don't give the Borg a chance to adapt!" He shouted to his command crew.

Suddenly the helmsman's computer exploded in a shower of sparks, sending the young ensign spiraling to the floor, his face charred beyond recognition. Riker hopped up to take the helmsman's place. Unbeknownst to him, however, the Borg Cube had begun to direct its fire to the bridge of the _Enterprise_. Picard saw the wall begin to crack open under the assault, and rose from his chair to pull Riker back. The captain grabbed his first officer's arm and began to pull him back just as the wall broke open, the vacuum of space beginning to suck out everything not bolted down. Without warning though, Picard began to feel his grip loosen. In shock he and Riker locked eyes as his hand went lax, leaving Riker without an anchor to the ship. He was sucked out in an instant, the horror on his face burned into Picard's retina.

There was no time to mourn the loss of his closest friend for the moment though. He knew there was still a chance to save his ship and his crew. Jean-Luc turned to the helmsman's station, sitting down and beginning to move the _Enterprise _away from the Borg Cube. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a large, angry ball of green energy rocketing to the space where the _Enterprise _was heading. His training told him to turn the ship down and duck under the photon torpedo. His instincts told him to duck the ship underneath the path of the photon torpedo. Everything inside himself told Jean-Luc Picard to send the _Enterprise _into a nose dive to avoid the photon torpedo. Yet, he felt his body moving too slowly to do so in time. His body's reaction systems were slowing down, even though his mind was screaming at them to speed up. Then, in the next instant, the torpedo made direct contact with his ship. Picard sucked in air as his entire nervous system began to shut down in fear.

He sat up in bed, exhaling sharply as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Jean-Luc Picard felt adrenaline pumping through his veins as he began to catch his breath. Looking around, he saw he was in his quarters. Even with the lights off, however, his eyes found what he was looking for immediately. He rolled out of bed and immediately grabbed the small bottle on his table. "These damned pills. It's these damned pills. Those were the exact side effects Beverly warned me about." He took them to the garbage chute near his door, "If something like that occurred outside of my dreams, my entire crew could be put in harm's way because of me." He tossed the sleeping pills into the chute. "I'm not going to let that happen any time soon. Even if I must overcome the voices on my own, I can do it without the aid of something that ends up doing more harm than good."

_END_


End file.
